


Revenant Anomaly

by Heikijin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood, End of the World, Everyone Is Gay, Illnesses, Injury, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Adoptive Siblings, Keith's Dad and Shiro's Mum got married, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Post-Apocalypse, Pseudo-Incest, Zombies, but there might be one day, there might not be, there you go, there's none in the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 23:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30046314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heikijin/pseuds/Heikijin
Summary: The world as they knew it ended over a year ago. Cities burned and humanity fell to ruin in the wake of the bacteria that they'd said had come from space. The meteorite had been big enough to wipe out London and shockwaves were felt hundreds of miles from the epicentre. In the wake of the tragedy no one knew what horrors were still to come and the organism spread across the globe like wildfire unchecked.This is the story of three men as they try to find a new normal and somewhere safe to settle in the Eurasian continent for more than a few nights at a time. Their journey to find any other survivors, their struggles with the constant threat of infection and death and—amongst it all—their blossoming feelings for each other.
Relationships: Keith/Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Revenant Anomaly

**Author's Note:**

> The tags and rating will be updated as the story updates. Please be aware this will later go up to Explicit and involve sex scenes as well as violence and suffering. Will also involve adoptive brother x brother within the dynamic, probably.
> 
> This is my attempt to overcome some trauma involving Polyam - since I am genuinely supportive of it and enjoy it within fiction even if not for myself in reality.

┏━━━━━◟⚶◞━━━━━┓

REVENANT 

┗━━━━━ᚒ⟢⟣ᚒ━━━━━┛

“Hey Shiro, how’s he holding up?” Lance asked, voice quiet as he glanced at the pale form on the bed.

“Still the same, he’s been in and out but I think…” Shiro’s voice wobbled slightly and he stopped, he knew Lance would get what he meant.

“Yeah…” Lance licked his lips. Keith probably wouldn’t last much longer and then they’d have to… “I’ll watch him for a while. You get some rest Shiro, you’ve been up for almost three days.”

“But I can’t just—”

“I’ll call you if anything changes okay?” Lance cut Shiro off, the other man looked almost as bad as his dying brother.

Shiro was silent for a long moment after that, staring down at Keith with bloodshot eyes ringed with the dark smudges of sleeplessness. Lance wondered if the older man was going to argue again, try to push for more time at Keith’s bedside despite not actually being able to do anything.

“I promise, when it happens _you_ will be the one to do it, okay? But you need to rest, just in case there’s another attack or something. Shiro you’re exhausted and can barely sit upright at the moment.” Lance pressed a gentle hand to Shiro’s back, rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

Shiro pressed his lips together in a thin line, his expression turning more pained for a moment before he managed to reel it in. Even on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion Shiro somehow managed to keep himself mostly composed. Lance would never know how the older man did it, wondered what the toll was for always taking it upon himself to be the strong one.

Finally, Shiro heaved a heavy sigh and stood up, brushing Keith’s hair out of his face one last time before turning. He dropped his hands to Lance’s shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze, pressing their foreheads together. He felt hot and Lance wondered if the other man was getting a fever from pushing himself too much over the past week.

“Call me if anything changes,” Shiro said. “ _Anything_ , okay?”

“Sure will, don’t worry about it. I got this Shiro. Now _please_ get some sleep.” Lance patted at Shiro’s forearms. Then he shooed him away into the other bedroom of the apartment they’d holed up in for the time being.

Shiro left after one more worried glance between the other men.

Once Shiro was out of sight Lance sagged and heaved a heavy sigh. In truth he was exhausted as well, unable to sleep properly since Keith was bitten. The worry and devastation he felt was crushing, making it hard to breathe relatively often. Nightmares that he’d gotten used to and had diminished over the last year and a half since the bacterium began spreading were renewed and twisted now. Instead of himself being ripped apart it was Keith and Shiro, somehow that was worse than when it was him.

Lance dropped down into the chair next to Keith’s bed and hung his head, he wiped his hands down his face before resting his wrists on spread knees.

Keith had been bitten three days ago now. Lance wasn’t even sure how it’d happened because everything had been moving so quickly. One moment they were walking through an alleyway and the next a revver was falling from the fucking sky and landing on Keith. The crunch of their bodies colliding had been horrible—but the scream Keith let out when his right cheek was gouged by teeth was worse.

Of course the rotter hadn’t _actually_ come out of the sky, Lance knew that, it was most likely that it fell out of a first floor window or something. Other than the bite to his face and then his right forearm Keith was only bruised and grazed.

Lance lifted his gaze to Keith’s bandaged arm, the once white gauze had turned a sickly greenish-yellow-brown where the wound was degrading and oozing. It didn’t smell—oddly enough—but Lance wagered that if he removed the bandage to take a look it would be a gross, slimy mess.

He moved to hold Keith’s hand, squeezing the chilled limb slightly before tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling.

At first - when the whole bacteria mess had started—Lance and Keith had barely gotten along. Lance began the whole ordeal alone in his shared student house, because everyone else was in their respective classes whilst he had a few free periods. He didn’t know if he was glad about that or not, but Lance spent the next week locked away there.

He didn’t meet Shiro and Keith until two months after the fall. There were still quite a few survivors around ranging from families to single people to those nasty gangs. The type of gang who looted and assaulted and were just plain fucking disgusting to Lance. The type of gang who had shoved him to the ground, ripped his barely full backpack from him and kicked him until he was bruised and bleeding.

Shiro had been the one to intervene, ripping the main offender from above Lance just as a kick collided with the side of the blue eyed man’s face. He was trying to deal with the crippling pain and blood gushing from the wound inside his mouth after that, but Lance was sure Keith jumped in like a fucking animal after Shiro. Somehow the two of them fought off six guys with minimal injuries.

After it was over Keith had been eager to get going, sending nothing but a grunt in Lance’s direction as Lance had sat up and thanked them. Shiro had insisted they stay to make sure Lance was okay, though, and the brothers had somewhat of a heated—but ‘whispered’—argument between themselves. Shiro won, obviously, because the three of them ended up grouping together and travelling.

They’d argued about stupid shit so often at the beginning—Keith and Lance—but somehow over time they began to understand each other better and irritation turned to tolerance turned to friendship. They were all so close now after everything they’d been through together, so Keith being bitten was like Lance losing a family member all over again.

He was sure his own family back in Cuba were long dead—which was _awful_ of him he knew. But how could he have that hope when there was so much death? His mama was older and physically probably wouldn’t be able to keep outrunning hoards of revenants, his niece and nephew were so fucking _young,_ too. Maybe his brothers and sisters had survived somewhere, somehow, but if they lost the kids he knew it’d probably kill their parents from grief. So no, Lance didn’t hope, hope was cruel and painful and selfish as it was, it was easier to expect the worst and grieve.

Lance felt his breath catch and a sensation and sound that was suspiciously like a sob ripped out of him. He swallowed another one down after that and grit his teeth, thinking about his family was always an emotional disaster.

Keith twitched slightly, his hand gripping at Lance for a fraction of a second and Lance’s attention was well and truly brought back to the present. He jerked his head in Keith’s direction and his eyes roved over the other man’s face for signs of life. Or rather signs of death and reanimation. Had Keith stopped breathing at some point when Lance was looking at the ceiling and sinking himself into a pit of despair again?

Lance held his own breath as he watched Keith’s chest rising and falling, not dead yet, then. He sagged, muscles that had been suddenly tense with worry going lax in his relief. He wasn’t ready to end it yet. Not that he’d have a say whenever it happened, but Lance was sure he’d never be _ready_ to see Keith’s light snuffed out.

Lance gently stroked his thumb over the heel of Keith’s palm where his hand was resting and leaned back in his chair again. Rolling his head to the side Lance gazed out of the window, the sky was bright and blue with barely a white, wispy cloud in sight. Sunlight was reflecting off of the other buildings around the apartment block they were in, almost blinding in its brilliance. It was such a dichotomy to how he felt right now that it was almost sickening.

He heaved another heavy sigh, the sound trembling out of him as he did his best to keep his emotions in check. There was another twitch below his hand and Lance’s head shot around again—just in time to see the blur of movement coming towards him.

Lance screamed, eyes going wide as Keith fell against him heavily, hands grabbing at Lance’s upper arms harshly. Everything happened in a fraction of a second, yet it was like slow motion as Lance felt teeth sinking into the delicate skin where his neck met his shoulder.

He choked on another scream—this time of pain—as Keith’s teeth punctured and ripped at his flesh. Lance’s hands scrabbled for purchase against Keith, trying to shove him away as he felt light headedness take hold.

He was going to die. Keith had turned and Lance had been too wrapped up in himself and not vigilant enough and now he was going to fucking _die_. He was going to decline and begin to rot from the inside out before finally dying and turning into another gormless rotter. He’d never see the sun again, or taste those stupid tinned vegetables he pretended to hate, or feel the warmth of a hug. Shiro was going to be alone.

Lance let out a shattered sob and then Keith was being ripped from him by Shiro who had come running at the sound of commotion.

“Lance!!” Shiro yelled.

Lance fell sideward out of the chair he’d been sitting in, gripping at the wet, gushing wound at his shoulder. He whimpered, rolling onto his side and vomiting violently—barely anything produced since their diet was sorely lacking.

“Shiro—” Lance’s voice came out breathy and barely there before he passed out.

⟣ᚒ━SHIRO POV━ᚒ⟢

“ _Lance_!” Shiro called again but the smaller man was limp, blood slowly oozing out around his injured shoulder and staining the carpet.

“I- I’m sorry! _Oh my god I’m so fucking sorry_!” Keith sobbed, almost hysterical.

Shiro whipped his head around to stare at his brother, eyes wide and shocked at hearing him speak at all. He’d _bitten_ Lance, but he was still able to speak and feel remorse? Shiro kept his hold tight on Keith’s shoulders, keeping him at arms length for his own safety as his eyes roved over Keith and tried to gauge what the hell was going on.

“Keith? Are you still…” He trailed off, not knowing how to say it without crushing his own heart more than it already was.

“I am— I think I am… I feel like I am but- _oh god_ Lance I didn’t mean to!” Keith was crying, Shiro could feel the smaller man’s body trembling violently in his grip. “I didn’t even know what was happening until I was already biting him! I swear I didn’t mean to! I was so fucking hungry, it was like my body moved on its own!” He was obviously panicking. _Join the goddamn club_.

“Okay, just— we need to calm down. Can you do that for me, Keith?” Rich words coming from him, he knew, but Shiro needed to take stock of the situation properly.

“Yeah… yeah I won’t move, I promise. I feel normal again, just tired. But my head's all here right now.” Keith kept himself lax in Shiro’s hold and made no move to try to break free or attack him.

So he tentatively began to release his hold on his brother, hands easing their grip and sliding down Keith’s arms before dropping away completely. There was a tense stillness for a few moments as they stared at each other, breathing loud in the following silence, but soon Shiro forced himself to move again.

“I need to see to Lance, _stay there_.” Shiro commanded, he felt bad about how sharp and short his tone was but he had to make Keith aware of how serious he was. Keith nodded.

Sure that his brother was going to stay put—or relatively sure, anyway—Shiro hurriedly dropped to his knees next to Lance’s limp frame. The tank top the other man was wearing had done almost nothing to protect him from the bite. Blood was still oozing from the wound in a way that had Shiro ripping off his own shirt and hastily pressing it to the shredded flesh and torn muscle. How had Keith done _so much_ damage so quickly? Especially if he was still in his right mind. Or… mostly in his right mind?

“Shit,” Shiro swore.

Was Lance infected now? Wasn’t he? Keith wasn’t turned yet, he just looked like absolute shit. Revs didn’t _talk_ after all, did they? But then normal people didn’t bite giant chunks out of their friends' necks either, sane ones anyway. What the fuck was going on?

Shiro kept the pressure on Lance’s wound as he brushed the hair away from the younger man’s brow, the strands sticking slightly with perspiration. His breathing was steady and strong, expression relaxed in unconsciousness and body much the same. When Keith had passed out from his own bite he’d looked pained, his body tense and jerking despite being out cold.

“Lance,” Shiro said, softly. “Hey, Lance can you hear me?” He tapped lightly at the side of Lance’s face with his palm but there was no response.

Shiro pressed the hand that wasn’t putting pressure on Lance’s injury to his own face, then. Swiping it down with barely concealed worry before turning his gaze back to Keith on the bed. True to his word Keith hadn’t moved at all, other than breathing. He looked tense and distraught, his skin pallid and slightly grey. Sickly. Almost like the dead but not quite.

“Other than tired, how do you feel— _physically_?” Shiro asked him, unable to do much more than wait for Lance to stop bleeding for now. He kept his hand tight against Lance’s wound as he tried to take better stock of the situation now that the initial panic had subsided. Replaced by the crushing knowledge he was going to lose both his brother and possibly his best friend too now. It was easier to cover it up with logical thinking than let the emotions take root for the moment, though. 

"I don't..." Keith trailed off, struggling with what to say. Shiro waited patiently for him to continue even if all he wanted to do was yell at him to just answer. That would be of no help to anyone, least of all Lance, and none of this was really Keith's fault either. 

Shiro let Keith work through his thoughts in his own time. Watched as his brother bit his lip and looked down at himself, going so far as to pat himself down a bit as he tried to figure out how to verbalise his condition. It was important that he get it as accurate as possible right now, and Keith seemed to know this as he closed his eyes and furrowed his brow even more. Finally he seemed to have enough of an answer and looked at Shiro again, then his eyes flicked down to Lance for a moment and watered but before Keith could actually cry more he averted his gaze from the two of them completely.

"I don't really feel much of anything." That wasn't what Shiro had been expecting to hear at all. Keith had been in a lot of pain before. "I mean, my stomach sort of hurts but it's more a hunger pain than anything. The rest of my body feels fine now, it hurt so bad before Shiro, I felt like everything was ripping itself to shreds inside and I was so hot but now... there's just nothing. I don't feel hot or cold, good or bad I just... it's weird." Keith was looking at his hands, clenching and unclenching them where they were resting against his lap.

"You don't feel... sick?" Shiro asked, squinting as he tried to digest that information, because he'd seen quite a lot of people turn since this all began and not a single one of them had ever felt better before they turned. Everyone had only gotten worse and worse until they were delirious and almost rabid, unable to eat or drink or even move near the end and then they'd die and turn and that was it. 

Keith, though, he'd followed the trend perfectly at first, but he'd taken longer than usual for things to progress and then he'd just been unconscious most of the time until now. Shiro didn't know whether that was something to be hopeful over or terrified of. It could mean Keith had some resistance to the bacteria and maybe even some potential for helping with a cure—even though he'd not let anyone turn him into a lab rat—but it could also mean that the bacteria was mutating and that was never a good thing with any pathogen.

"No. Even the bites don't hurt any more even though they're still not healed. What does that mean? Shiro I've _seen_ other people turn this has never happened before!" Keith was very obviously unsettled by not only his attack on Lance but by his own unknown situation and Shiro felt stretched thin. 

From the state of the world as a whole to Keith being bitten and his grief over that and now to Lance laying injured and unconscious in his arms whilst his brother—who he'd been convinced mere hours ago was in the midst of dying a horrible death—now sat on the bed feeling _better_ . After his brother had just bitten a chunk out of his friend and _swallowed_ it. Shiro was exhausted and confused and anxious and he still felt like he had to put up a front and be the calm, collected one because if not him then who? If he fell apart right now then he knew Keith would, at least as he was in his current state.

"I don't know, Keith." Shiro forced his voice to remain level and hoped the slight tremor was unnoticeable. "You're covered in blood, though. Again, and you've been unconscious for a while so you should go wash it off. The water here's still running by some eco initiative miracle."

"...Okay." Keith nodded, still not looking at them. "I can help with Lance first if you need me to." 

"No." Shiro said a bit too quickly and felt guilt twist at his insides when Keith visibly flinched. "No, it's fine Keith I just need to keep pressure here and move him to the bed. You wash up whilst you can okay?"

"Yeah." Keith slid off the bed and didn't say anything more before slipping out of the room like a kicked puppy. Shiro would need to apologise to him later, but first Lance needed help.

Shiro did his best to keep the pressure on Lance's wound as he lifted him and stood to deposit the younger man on the sick-bed that his brother had just vacated. Once Lance was down Shiro carefully pulled the bundled shirt away and grimaced as it stuck to the mangled flesh for a moment before coming off. Blood welled up to the surface again but it wasn't flowing as heavy and freely as it had been at first which was a good sign. Shiro wished he was more confident with his first aid, even if he'd learned a decent amount during his time in the military he'd always felt inadequate when it came to effectively treating the more severe injuries. Lance was the better one at doing that, but he wasn't able to help right now and Keith knew less than either of them.

He pressed the shirt back to the wound and did his best to bundle a pillow against it whilst he went to get their first aid supplies, the pressure the pillow supplied wasn't ideal of course but it was better than nothing. When he came back Shiro checked the wound again and grit his teeth at the muscle damage, it'd heal—if Lance wasn't infected that was—but the scarring would be deep and Lance would probably have some issue with using that arm for a few months. Unless he got a wound infection and sepsis.

Shiro groaned and shook his head as if that would keep him focused and then got to work cleaning and stitching the injury before pressing a large gauze pad over it and tightly wrapping the area with a bandage. When he was done Lance was wrapped across his shoulder and around his chest for stability and the blue eyed boy was sweating slightly but still not groaning or grimacing with pain. Shiro could only hold out hope that whatever strange phenomenon was making Keith seem to recover would mean that Lance wasn't actually infected. Hope was all he could have at this point, after all.

He watched Lance closely, studying the boy's features for any signs he was in pain or waking up but neither of those things came to pass and after ten minutes Shiro gave in to the urge to reach over and stroke Lance's cheek. His skin was soft and warm and Shiro had no idea how he remained so blemish free still with how often they got into fights and how little they got to bathe properly. 

It had been a stroke of luck when they'd found the apartment complex near the edges of a sprawling park, locked and relatively Rev free after Keith had been bitten. Lance had climbed through a small window because he was so slim and then managed to undo the fire escape doors to the small complex from the inside. He'd been more than reliable as Shiro carried Keith through the hallways and up the stairs, Lance was an amazing shot with his bow and even if he wasn't as confident with close range combat he'd cleared the way for them beautifully. Shiro wondered if they'd be able to stay there for the longer term, it was much better than constantly moving on and trying to find safe places to sleep for the night.

Of course keeping a food supply could become an issue, as well as medical if they kept getting injured. The town they were in was small and they'd seen no signs of living humans and surprisingly little of looting, so perhaps they would be okay for a short while. If there were more than just the three of them they could probably secure a wider perimeter and plant some food crops, try to find some wild animals to catch and farm for meat. As it stood they were two down and Shiro still wasn't confident Keith wouldn't just drop dead any moment followed by Lance.

Shiro's pessimism had only grown worse since the fall, though he wagered that most sane people had fared the same. He'd seen the change in Keith, especially. He'd always been a somewhat broody youth. But his smiles had grown near non-existent now, the small sparks of joy and hope that had begun to return to his eyes had been snuffed out not long after they'd found their parents dead. 

Lance, somehow, was still able to crack jokes and grin and pour energy into keeping their morale up and their conversations light-hearted. Shiro had never missed the exhaustion dragging his features down when the younger man thought no-one was looking, though. Lance's pep had driven Keith to anger at first and it had caused a fair few arguments between the two boys, though after a while they'd become less genuinely ire driven and more of an odd sort of stress release and bonding for them. 

Shiro's lips canted into a soft smile and he gently took Lance's hand between his own, not unlike he'd been holding Keith's a couple of hours before. But unlike with his brother, Shiro leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Lance's knuckles and grit his teeth to stop more tears spilling from his eyes. He'd cried enough in the past few days and not only was that a bad idea when you had to boil everything you drank, it just plain gave him a splitting headache. It also helped absolutely no-one. So Shiro took a shuddering inhale and kissed Lance's hand again before sitting back up and moving to clean up the room a bit. 

Blood had an unpleasant smell and he didn't want it to dry and begin to rot there either. Of course there were other apartments but they hadn't bothered to check and clear _those_ of revs yet and if they wanted to stay longer term they'd need to clean them all up as well. For now, though, their immediate dwelling was all that mattered. At least until they could figure out what the hell was going on with Keith.

As if on cue his brother walked into the room but didn't make eye contact, instead sliding his gaze from the floor up to Lance's prone form on the bed. Keith was clean now but the pallor of his skin hadn't improved at all and his hair was lank and sticking to his bare neck and shoulders where he'd left it wet. Shiro hated the way he could see his brother's ribs slightly beneath the muscle he held from moving around and fighting so much. Keith looked gaunt, though Shiro supposed neither he nor Lance were faring any better and all three of them had different frames so held the malnutrition differently in their figure.

Lance was the shortest of them—though only by an inch or three—he was the most naturally lean with a slim bone structure that made him seem the most affected by the lack of food even though he still had good physical strength. Shiro was tall and broad and when he was dressed he looked generally formidable and muscular still, bulky. But beneath he was just as bony as his companions.

"He hasn't woken up still?" Keith's question broke Shiro from his musing and the older man shook his head morosely. 

"He hasn't reacted at all, he's just been laying there like that not even twitching." Shiro sighed and dumped the ruined clothes out the window to the alleyway below. There was no use trying to clean them off since there were more they could take and wear from the apartment they were in. Keith already in some sort of yoga pants that were likely women's since the men's clothes were definitely for the larger man. Even Shiro would have to find something to hold the pants up with around the large waistbands.

"I'm so sorry..." Keith apologised again and Shiro walked across the room and pulled him into a crushing hug.

"It's not your fault. You didn't know what you were doing, and you snapped out of it, too. Keith that's some sort of miracle you have to know that, right?" Shiro spoke into Keith's damp hair.

The only response Shiro got was a heavy sob and he pressed a hard kiss to the top of Keith's head, squeezing the younger man more tightly. Keith's hands fisted against Shiro's now bare back and Shiro felt like his brother was a vulnerable pre-teen all over again, just less angry at everything that breathed now. Well, most things. 

Shiro carefully pulled Keith to sit on the floor next to the bed and he fell into Shiro's lap and leaned heavy against him, still crying but more softly as exhaustion seemed to make him limp. Shiro let his head fall back and turned his face to stare at Lance's hand that was laying limp against the mattress next to his head. Keith's face was buried into the other side of his neck, but the younger man's hand had moved up to carefully hold onto Lance's wrist with trembling fingers.

Shiro's heart clenched painfully as he watched the action, feeling helpless as the only things that mattered in the world to him were being torn apart. They sat together like that for a while until Shiro felt himself dropping off, exhaustion and the weight and comfort of his brother against him lulling him to sleep.

  
  


⟣ᚒ━KEITH POV━ᚒ⟢

  
  


Keith didn't know when he'd fallen asleep again but he woke with a crick in his neck and numb feet from the way he'd been clinging to Shiro and straddling him, sitting on his own feet in the process. He didn't move for a while, putting off the dreadful pins and needles he knew he was in store for and not wanting to lose the warmth of Shiro's body or let go of Lance's hand.

Guilt welled up within Keith like a storm swelling a river that was threatening to burst its banks. 

Carefully he let go of Lance and then stood and moved away from Shiro too. It took longer than he'd care to admit to do it without waking his brother or falling flat on his face without much feeling in his feet, but Keith managed it somehow. He stood in the centre of the room as he waited for the pins and needles to subside, trying to move his legs as little as possible, since doing so just made it feel so much worse.

Eventually he was back to normal and Keith crept out of the room before he could get lost in staring at Lance and Shiro with guilt all over again. Truthfully he had no idea what really happened or _why_ only that he'd come to with a mouth full of blood—and he was sure there had been some small chunks of flesh there too—and Lance bleeding and screaming. 

Keith dropped into the musty couch in the living area and put his head in his hands as he trembled with the memory. The worst part wasn't that he'd lost control of himself and bit Lance, it was that he'd _enjoyed it_ . When he became aware of what was happening Keith had been acutely aware of the pleasure and satiation that he felt mingled in with the horror and panic of it all. Tasting Lance's blood and swallowing his flesh had felt good _._ Keith felt sick to his stomach and gagged but pressed a hand over his mouth as if it would stop him from vomiting, puking these days wasn't just unpleasant it was a waste of food and water that they couldn't really afford. Even if Keith wanted to purge his body of the bits of Lance he'd eaten.

He breathed heavy through his nose until the feeling passed and then Keith stood abruptly, feeling antsy and unable to sit still. He didn't feel like he was going to die any more, not like he'd felt after first being bitten or during the vague memories he had of consciousness during his fever. He felt good, he felt _strong_ but at the same time something within him felt inherently off, he'd changed but he couldn't pin down how exactly.

Keith's entire body just felt off kilter and he didn't know if it felt good or terrible or some combination of the two. On one hand he was _hungry,_ in a way that was different to the hunger he had become used to since the fall. On the other he felt like he could do anything, he felt strong and—despite being emotionally wrecked—energised. 

Keith paced the lounge for a while, chewing on his lower lip as he tried to work off some of his nervous energy. Shiro was still asleep and, knowing his brother, he'd likely hardly allowed himself any rest when Keith had been down with the bacteria for however long. It struck Keith that he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but it didn't really matter in the scheme of things. It wasn't as if he had any appointments to keep.

It was another ten minutes before Keith couldn't stand the quiet and inactivity and he strapped his knife to his belt intending to leave to find something, _anything_ to work out his energy on. When he grabbed the handle of the front door he paused. If he just left then Shiro could wake up and freak out, thinking Keith had run away (again). He scanned the room for a pen and paper but saw nothing. 

Swearing softly, Keith went into the kitchen and rifled through the drawers. Everyone had a 'crap drawer' in the kitchen, so he looked for one that held random items and made a sound of triumph when he found it. He didn't know why anyone would need a travel sized packet of condoms in the _kitchen_ drawer but shrugged it off and managed to find a red sharpie. 

Not wanting to go through the bother of finding paper too, Keith went back into the bedroom quietly and wrote on the wall across from where Shiro was slumped. At least that way the man was a lot more likely to spot it. That done he left the marker on the floor beneath his message, grabbed his backpack—ignoring the dark brown stains on it from when he'd been bitten—and left the apartment.

The hallways were empty but he kept his hand on the hilt of his blade anyway, just in case something jumped out at him. Most of the undead were slow and clumsy, noisy, but there were a few abnormals that did things like run and move almost silently. Keith hated those the most, they were strong and seemed more bloodthirsty than their slower, dumber cousins. 

Keith peered into the stairwell and hummed beneath his breath in thought. If he just went down he could easily fight his way out of the building but getting back in might have been an issue if it was locked, and he knew that Shiro would have made _sure_ that they secured it. He looked up and decided that he could survey the area from the roof before doing anything else, at least. He had no idea where they were or how far he'd been carried after the attack on him, though it had felt like forever with how much pain he was in at the time.

Keith got to the roof and opened the fire door, the sun was low and he wagered it was probably getting well into early evening. It was still warm, though, and likely would be well into the night this time of year, humid too. He went to the edge, being careful to step around the multitude of solar panels lined up since they weren't something they could repair or replace easily. If they could secure the building and possibly the area surrounding it too Keith thought it would make a good base at least for a while, even though it had limitations such as nowhere to grow their own produce. 

He looked out over his surroundings and let his gaze linger on the park across one of the roads that flanked the building. It was a large space full of grass and trees and soil, there was probably a play park in there somewhere but it seemed to be a pretty big place and would be useful for vegetables and fruits with a lot of work. Keith sighed, there were only three of them and the task was huge, on top of that he didn't know if he was going to turn or just simply die anytime soon, the same went for Lance after Keith's loss of control as well. 

Gritting his teeth and forcing those thoughts from his mind for a while, Keith turned his attention to the road below and the street that stretched out into downtown. It was surprisingly empty, though of course there were a few deadheads milling about seeming most interested in the fire escape door that was nestled in the alleyway between the building and its neighbour. Probably where Shiro and Lance had gotten into the complex with him in the first place. The fire escape seemed sturdy and the building was very obviously relatively new. Keith decided that's where he'd get down from, the chances of it being rusted enough to be unsafe were almost non-existent and he could leave a rope attached to the ladder so that he could pull it down on his way back, too.

Keith jumped from the edge of the roof down to the first level of the fire escape easily, bending his knees after dropping off the ledge so the sound of him hitting the metal was less severe. It still caught the rev's attention of course but it was unlikely to draw them in from miles around. He slipped the rope out of his bag as he made his way down the stairs and tied it on the end of the ladder before dropping it and pulling his knife as he slid down the rungs with practiced ease.

The first rotter was on him almost instantly and Keith felt his adrenaline surge as he spun and buried his knife into it's skull through the eye socket. The sickening squelch of the eyeball popping and the splatter of old blood and fluid across his gloves and fingertips was both satisfying and disgusting and Keith pulled the knife free quickly so that he could move on to the next one. And the next. 

Four walkers later Keith was finally alone—from what he could tell—and he wiped his dagger clean on the shirt of one of the bodies before leaving the alleyway. He was cautious as he picked his way across the street and into the park, jumping over the fence as the gate had been padlocked closed. Probably at the very beginning of the breakout if the vines growing up and around parts of the chain was any indication.

Still, that didn't mean that the place would be rev free, there were multiple gates into the space and there could have been people trapped inside or even dumped there in some attempt to corral them after they turned. Even after so long Keith found the depth of the silence since the fall suffocating. He liked peace and quiet, who didn't? But when you had to contend with the undead who were more than ready and willing to rip your skin off with their teeth it was just creepy. 

Still, the wildlife seemed to be thriving and Keith wondered how many squirrels there were as he watched one scurry up a tree and out of sight into the canopy. They didn't make for the meatiest of catches, but they were a good source of protein and food when they needed it and they'd been living off of preserved nuts and tinned pulses for a while. Keith could really go for some meat. 

Keith shook himself out of the weird loop of thought concentrated on meat and tightened his grip around the hilt of his knife until his gloves creaked and his joints ached. He didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to remember the way Lance's skin had felt and tasted as he tore at it. 

He pressed the back of a hand over his mouth and took a few deep, calming breaths before forcing his feet to move again, continuing on his way through the park. He could think about food _after_ he'd found some sort of pharmacy or surgery and secured some decent medical supplies for Lance.


End file.
